


Cruel Reality

by killerkelly



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depressing Thoughts, Drabble, No Fandom - Freeform, OC, OFC - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerkelly/pseuds/killerkelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling a little down, this is the result. Might not make much sense, but it soothes my mind a little. Depressing thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruel Reality

She sits on the soft sand and raises her hand. In her peripheral, she can see the ocean, the far-away boats sliding away on it, the children playing in it. She can hear their cries and their laughter, their shrieks and giggles. They are so close, but to her, they are so far away.

Her attention is on her right hand; clenched into a fist and raised to eye-level. She watches as the beige-brown colour slips though her fingers, each tiny grain a second of her life. It is eternal, endless, short. She holds a life in her hand. Her life.

If only, she thinks, and opens her hand. The wind catches and blows the sand further than it would have otherwise. It settles on the ground in a scattered path, and joins the hundreds of millions already there, waiting for everything to settle back into its rightful place.

Grains of it stick to her, seeps through the gaps of her toes, tangles in her long hair. She can taste it on her tongue, even, bittered by the sea.

The sun is hot on her clothed back. Boiling. She can feel her skin redden with each passing moment but makes no move to calm it. Later, she was lie on a bed too small and shiver with sun-sickness and she won’t care. She will pull the thin blanket over her and close her eyes, and lay still through the pain until sleep claims her and pulls her into its comforting darkness.

But for now she sits on the beach and allows the sun to warm her, burn her skin. She will redden and blister and peel but for now, she sits still and sweating and wishes the moment would stay.

It wouldn’t.

Because much like the sand she had gathered in her hand, time would move each grain at its own pace to settle them back into the earth where they belonged. Time was a fact, a simple truth.

Everything must go forward.


End file.
